Bake Sale
by dramatic owl
Summary: At least this time they weren't selling chocolate turtles. Written for genprompt bingo.


Summary: At least this time they weren't selling chocolate turtles. Fluff written for genprompt_bingo for the prompt: cake and cookies.

Disclaimer: Not mine, just this story.

* * *

 **BAKE SALE**

Arnold put the finishing decorative touches on the sugar cookies and Gerald looked the tray over approvingly.

"Looking good, but we need to bake at least two dozen more."

"The object is to earn the most money, not bake the most cookies. People will pay more for these because they're artisan cookies, and that's what we need to promote them as."

"Yeah, but we can't charge that much more for these cookies just because you painted the Eifel Tower in icing on them, Arnold. Besides, we've got sales from chocolate bars too, and I just got two more boxes we can sell tonight. I'll run out and get more ingredients, you keep an eye on the cookies and make sure Timberly doesn't eat them."

"Gerald, your little sister is eleven years old now. She knows better than to eat the cookies we're making for a bake sale."

"I'm not leaving anything to chance this time."

This year's class had four months to earn money to subsidize their trip to France and a large number of students to contribute to the effort. Mrs. Lamoureux taught five separate periods of French: two beginner classes, two intermediate, and one advanced. Between them all they could raise a considerable amount of cash.

Naturally Helga had turned it into a competition among friends, girls against boys, her and Phoebe against Arnold and Gerald, whichever team earned the most money would win. It was all in fun and as Phoebe pointed out it would benefit them all, since the more they earned to subsidize the trip the less would have to come out of each of their pockets. Still, it was a matter of pride to win and of course once Phoebe got into the spirit of it all she informed Arnold and Gerald that they were going down.

At least this time they wouldn't be selling chocolate turtles. The class had purchased boxes of fifty regular chocolate bars in bulk at a discount rate and were selling each bar at a jacked-up rate. It was for a good cause so people bought them, not caring that they were paying two dollars for a single chocolate bar that was purchased at a rate of twenty-five cents.

Selling chocolate bars was all well and good, but this year's group was ambitious. They were supplementing their efforts with bake sales for in-school events and at events around Hillwood. He and Gerald had already prepared four dozen decorated sugar cookies to sell at the bake sale outside of the auditorium this evening, before and after the school play and during intermission. Another two dozen wouldn't be a big deal, though he would stick with the simpler decorations on this last batch. Arnold was happy to let Gerald dictate the numbers in all their projects together if it gave him free rein to be creative.

#

Helga burst into laughter when Arnold pulled the aluminum foil off and unveiled the first tray of French-themed decorated cookies.

"Aren't those a little highbrow for this crowd, Arnoldo? Sure, everyone knows the Eifel Tower, but this crowd is probably not familiar with the design of the flag of France."

"Artisan cookies, Helga. We're going to make more money off of these than you and Phoebe make on your little chocolate chip cookies."

She snorted then leaned in to look closer at a few of the cookies. "Are those Monet's 'Water Lilies' in miniature? How much time did _that_ take you?"

"I obviously did a good reproduction. You knew exactly what they were."

"Touché," she said with a wink. "But quantity is the key to this battle, Football Head. We made ten dozen of ours and we're going to sell each and every one of them."

Helga's verbal sparring, even her use of his old nicknames, was her way of both connecting with him in a teasing, flirtatious way and at the same time keeping him at a needed safe distance in front of their peers, and he was okay with it. They'd grown closer since they were in the fourth grade together; after their adventures in San Lorenzo he knew how she really felt about him.

After the bake sale was over later and everyone parted ways, they would take a walk in the park together like they often did. They would go to her house after and hang out in her room under the pretense of studying. Sometimes they really did study, sometimes they talked in between kissing and cuddling. She was an incredibly talented writer and sometimes she lay with her head in his lap, letting him run his fingers through her hair, and read aloud to him the latest poem or short story she'd written.

Later, when they were alone, she would call him 'my love' and compliment him on his creativity and inspired cookie decorations. Right now, in the spirit of the contest, he rose to her challenge and made a crack about her pedestrian old tollhouse cookies.

#

At the end of the four months the girls had out-earned them by two dollars. Gerald confidentially told Arnold that they were never going to live it down, but Arnold was more optimistic. Anyway, their loss just meant they had to buy the girls a pastry of their choice when they got to Paris. Arnold would've done that anyway and he was sure Gerald would too.


End file.
